


Someone Waiting

by TheLordOfLaMancha



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drinking, Hero Complex spin-off, M/M, RusFin, USUK - Freeform, disturbing injuries, lots and lots of sads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 13:44:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4182033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLordOfLaMancha/pseuds/TheLordOfLaMancha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck with an unconscious Alfred in an airlock that's rapidly spinning out into the vastness of space, Ivan has one chance to make it to the rescue shuttle and to the certain Finnish sweetheart waiting for him to come home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone Waiting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TeatimeDuchess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeatimeDuchess/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Hero Complex](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2046879) by [TheLordOfLaMancha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLordOfLaMancha/pseuds/TheLordOfLaMancha). 



> For [TeatimeDuchess.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TeatimeDuchess/pseuds/TeatimeDuchess) In celebration of finally finishing her masterwork, [_A Tale As Old As Time._](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4181784) It's like... a fanfiction master's thesis and I am unbelievably proud of her, so GO GIVE IT LOVE. It's RusFin like this one.
> 
> This fic connects with a USUK one I wrote called [_Hero Complex._](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2046879/chapters/4445226) I've worked with lovely Betas who haven't read it to make sure this one stands on its own.
> 
> If you've read _Hero Complex,_ this is Ivan's perspective on the space station, and what happens to him afterwards.
> 
> If you haven't, and you like USUK, do check it out and have your heart ripped from your chest.
> 
> Translations and other references are linked.

“Winter Wonderland to shuttle, do you copy!?” Ivan shouted into what he hoped was a still functioning com set, trying to hear over Alfred’s screams. “Do you COPY!?”

Artificial gravity had been lost when the meteor collided with the space station and the two astronauts hung suspended as the airlock whirled in a tailspin around them. They were rapidly going off the planned trajectory. The other end of the com set was just static.

Ivan growled, throwing the headset off and reaching across the space to grab a hold of Alfred’s suit. Pages of calculations scattered off the desk and floated in the space around them as Ivan moved. Ivan’s jaw was set and he seethed at Alfred, but calmed when he caught his own reflection in Alfred’s visor. You need to be calm and in control now, Ivan thought.

Ivan watched out the window as the glow of the meteor disappeared into the blackness of space. After spending a week in on the space station installing a system to divert the meteor from colliding with the Earth, that same meteor had collided with the space station’s orbit and grazed through the outer reaches of the Earth’s atmosphere anyways. It was enough to send earthquakes and wildfires racing across most of western North America. And why? Because NASA miscalculated the meteor’s trajectory. Ivan took deep breaths and closed his eyes, Alfred’s space suit tight in his grip.

Now, Ivan was left trying to get himself and Alfred off an airlock that was wildly spinning out into the vastness of space and onto a rescue shuttle. With steady fingers, Ivan lashed the two of them together and twisted off Alfred’s helmet. Alfred moved to cling desperately to Ivan’s spacesuit.

The American was screaming bloody murder, his head ducked and his breathing uneven and ragged. He released shuttered sobs as his glassed over deep blue eyes looked up at Ivan. The whole right side of his body was rapidly growing charred and bloody. On the unmarked side, sweat poured down the side of his face. Alfred was minutes away from falling unconscious as his body responded to the natural disasters tearing his country apart miles below them. Ivan whistled lowly and slipped off his glove to pick the earpiece from Alfred’s ear.

“Mission control?” Ivan asked once he had the earpiece positioned in his ear. “Winter Wonderland, do you copy?”

“We copy, Winter Wonderland,” Ivan heard through the earpiece. “Patching you through to the shuttle.”

“[ _Spasibo_](https://translate.google.com/#ru/en/%D0%A1%D0%BF%D0%B0%D1%81%D0%B8%D0%B1%D0%BE),” Ivan replied quietly.

The earpiece had been something Alfred had cooked up in his own garage, a way to contact Arthur should the whole mission go to shit. Which, of course, it had. Alfred had managed to talk to Arthur before the meteor hit. It was all very mushy and emotional, Ivan recalled. And he was left just to listen and race to finish the calculations before the meteor struck. Now the blue crystal contraption was their only connection to mission control. Ivan found himself wishing he could hear the cheerful voice of his Finnish sweetheart instead of the calm, measured tone of rocket scientists. But that would have to wait. He would have to get home first.

“Shuttle to Winter Wonderland,” came the reply after a second of static.

“SHUTTLE DIVERT COURSE 20 DEGREES TO THE RIGHT! I REPEAT 20 DEGREES RIGHT!” Ivan shouted back, looking out the airlock window as best he could with the station spinning around them.

He could see the shuttle approaching and diverting its course. But at the station’s current trajectory, the two would never meet. Ivan turned back to look at Alfred, who was starting to look a bit blue and drifting to unconsciousness, his head thrown back and lolling in the anti-gravity. Blood floated in sickening blobs around them as it drifted from Alfred’s burns and his nose, which had begun to bleed. A machine beeped alarmingly somewhere to Ivan’s left. They were running out of air.

Ivan let out a flurry of swearing under his breath as he frantically reattached Alfred’s helmet and punched the American’s suit to start releasing what remained of their compressed air. He read the temperature readout on Alfred’s suit. The American was skyrocketing high above a fever and climbing rapidly. Alfred was never going to make it if Ivan didn’t…

“Preparing to dock,” came the command through Ivan’s earpiece.

Ivan turned to look back out the window. It would be colder outside the airlock. A lot colder. But how could they make it to the shuttle…

Still hanging loosely to the station above the airlock was the Canada Arm. That was it, Ivan thought. They… He, would have to spacewalk it. He made a mental note to thank Matthew later.

“[ _Nyet_](https://translate.google.com/#ru/en/%D0%9D%D0%B5%D1%82),” Ivan replied, putting his glove and his helmet back on. He heard the hiss as he kicked his compressed air. “Alfred will die if I do not… It is the only chance we have. Open the airlock and align with the arm.”

“You’re not going to…” came the response as Ivan watched the shuttle level on the other side of the arm.

“It is the only way to cool him,” Ivan replied harshly. He tripled checked that Alfred was lashed to him, and turned off the temperature balance on Alfred’s suit. He hoped Arthur could still hear him. “Arthur, I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do. This is all I can.”

Using Alfred’s deadweight, Ivan kicked off the airlock door and watched it spin off into space. Taking a deep breath he reached out through the door, and grabbed onto the arm, spinning with the spaceship.

Ivan growled through clenched teeth, grabbing his way down the arm as space spun in a blur around him. It took everything he had not to throw up. One hand after another, he thought. Focus on where you’re going. You have to get home. If you get home, you can talk to Tino. You have to get both of us home. For Arthur and for Tino. He hoped that the magnetic connection between his gloves and the metal rungs would hold.

As quickly as he could, Ivan made his way down the arm, Alfred hanging limply in front of him, swinging along with the Russian.

“We’re going to meet you halfway,” came the instruction through the earpiece. “When you get the command, push off the arm to your right. I repeat, push off to the right when we tell you to jump. We’re going to catch you.”

“YOU ARE INSANE!” Ivan shouted. He looked down at Alfred’s temperature display flashing on his limp wrist. His temperature was plummeting to sub-zero. Ivan could feel his own breath cool against his face. He could see the frost forming on the inside of Alfred’s helmet. He could also see the shuttle approaching in the reflection of the visor.

“He’s not going to make it if you don’t,” the shuttle said. “Are you ready?”

Ivan sighed. He opened his eyes wide and watched the shuttle come round to face them. He breathed deeply. _Do you trust me?_ came the sound of Tino’s voice in the Russian’s mind.

“Da,” he groaned, and pulled himself up to brace against the arm.

“JUMP,” came the command, and Ivan pushed off the arm, his eyes glued shut. _You just have to have a little hope,_ came Tino’s voice again, echoing through Ivan’s mind in the serenity of weightlessness. Please, bring me home to him _,_ Ivan thought. He prayed. He _hoped._ He didn’t open his eyes until he collided with the wall of the airlock. He could hear the whirring of machines as the door closed behind him. The artificial gravity kicked in as the airlock pressurized and Ivan fell to the floor, Alfred’s entire weight crushing on top of him.

“[ _Blyat_](https://translate.google.com/#ru/en/%D0%91%D0%BB%D1%8F%D1%82%D1%8C),” he cried out, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

The pressurization completed with a ding and the shuttle side doors opened as crew came rushing in to the airlock, unlashing Alfred from Ivan and lifting him to somewhere else in the ship. With help, Ivan rose and made his way to his seat. He flicked a few switches above his head and the earpiece made a sharp whine. Ivan winced and the earpiece filled with cheers.

“Winter Wonderland to mission control?” Ivan asked with laboured breathing.

“They’re… ah… [merde](https://translate.google.com/#auto/en/merde), fuck, ahhhhahaha,” came the broken response, followed by a sharp hiss. “They’re a bit busy, Winter Wonderland. You’ve just got Alpha One.”

“Matthew!” Ivan cried, trying to level his voice with deep breaths. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of mission control. “Thank you, [_spasibo_](https://translate.google.com/#ru/en/%D1%81%D0%BF%D0%B0%D1%81%D0%B8%D0%B1%D0%BE).”

The Canadian’s breathing was short and sharp over the com.

“Sorry, but for what?” Matthew asked and winced.

“That space arm you made… it might have just saved us,” Ivan laughed.

“Oh,” Matthew laughed, but it was broken. “How’s my brother?”

“How is your arm?” Ivan asked instead.

“Ivan,” Matthew said desperately, but Ivan could hear the tears in his voice. “Please, tell me about Alfred.”

“You already know,” Ivan breathed. He knew the two siblings had a weird connection. “I did everything I could. They have taken him somewhere else in the ship. But it did not look good. He is unconscious.”

“Prepare for re-entry,” the pilot announced over the shuttle.

Ivan could hear Matthew crying now on the other end of the line.

“Matthew,” Ivan said as levelly as he could, buckling into his seat. “We are going to bring him home.”

“I know,” Matthew breathed.

The line disconnected.

* * *

The minute the shuttle crew touched ground, medical crews were stripping Alfred from his spacesuit and rushing him to a waiting helicopter to be taken to hospital. Ivan sat in the grass, his parachute settling behind him and his own crew attending him in softly spoken Russian. He could see Matthew perched on the edge of the helicopter’s bay doors, his entire arm bandaged and held in a sling. Arthur had his hands clinging tight to the Canadian’s shoulders.

Ivan gently asked one of the crew to fetch him his phone. He had a call to make.

Far on the other side of the tiny blue planet, the embodiment of Finland was settling down for the evening with the live broadcast from NASA. He had read the news bulletin an hour or so ago, that not everything had gone according to plan with the mission and Alfred and Ivan would be returning early. Since then, the Finn could not shake the Russian from his mind. Tino worried at his sleeves, unable to focus during a conference call with the rest of the Nordic countries to decide what aid they would send to America in response to the natural disasters. His fellow countries had prompted him, but he turned his face away, distant in his own thoughts. The other countries shared knowing glances. Tino had gone straight to the gun range after, but not even a few rounds of ammunition could stay his nerves.

Tino jumped and dropped his tea when his phone buzzed on the coffee table, the slow tune of _Baby, It’s Cold Outside_ drifting through the room. His heart leapt into his throat when he saw the familiar number. He fumbled to answer the call and raised the phone with shaking hands to his ear.

“Hallo?” Tino asked softly, his empty fingers brushing his lips and his eyes wide.

“[ _Privet_](https://translate.google.com/#ru/en/%D0%9F%D1%80%D0%B8%D0%B2%D0%B5%D1%82),” Russia said hesitantly, wiggling his fingers inside his glove.

“Ivan,” Tino said, biting his lip. “How… how are you?”

Ivan laughed, but it was dark and cold.

“Rattled,” Ivan answered. “It has been a while, has it not?”

Tino was quiet and the line was filled with the hushed sound of their breathing. Tino shut his eyes and closed his hand. Ivan fidgeted where he was seated in the grass.

“Tino, I…” Ivan started.

“I saw the news reports,” Tino said sharply. “What happened? It was supposed to be safe.”

“Nothing is safe,” Ivan replied bitterly, frowning. “Damn Americans do not check their math.”

“And why didn’t you check it?” Tino nearly shouted back, leaning forward in his seat.

“I…” Ivan paused, looking blankly ahead. Tino fumed into the phone.

It was true, he hadn’t checked the math before take-off. He had been too busy with Alfred checking the ship. Ivan hid his face in his spacesuit.

“I _trusted_ …” Ivan replied quietly, squeezing his eyes shut.

Tino’s breath caught in his throat and he gasped.

“Listen,” Ivan said with urgency. “What happened to Alfred. It could have been any of us.”

It could have been Finland, Ivan thought.

It could have been Russia, Tino thought.

Tino set his jaw and seethed. He would not cry. He brought his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them. On the other end of the line, the Russian’s breathing was rapidly becoming shorter. Ivan tilted his head back and blinked rapidly.

“I did everything I could,” Ivan explained. “But I do not know… He could be… Tino, I have not seen injuries so awful.”

“Worse than [the war](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winter_War)?” Tino half joked, but when he laughed, it came out as broken gasps.

“Worse,” Ivan replied seriously.

“Tell me,” Tino commanded.

And Ivan did. He told Tino what Alfred had looked like after the meteor hit. He told Tino about how he carried Alfred to the shuttle when the American fell unconscious and how he had jumped untethered from the station to the shuttle.

As Ivan explained, Tino lost his control. His eyes welled with tears and he let them spill down his face, sobbing into the phone.

“What would you have done if you missed the shuttle?” Tino asked once he had calmed himself slightly, but his voice still shuttered when he spoke. He pursed his lips and stared passively into the carpet, looking up over his knees.

“I would not miss,” Ivan protested with conviction.

“How can you know that?” Tino asked desperately.

“There was someone waiting for me,” Ivan replied, and Tino could hear the smile in his voice. “I had to come home for you.”

Despite his tears, Tino smiled widely and sighed.

“I’ve missed you,” Tino cooed. “You big dork.”

“Really?” Ivan asked in disbelief.

“[Kyllä](https://translate.google.com/#fi/en/Kyll%C3%A4)!” Tino exclaimed, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “Fuck you too!”

Tino heard another voice mutter quietly in Russian, and Ivan yawned.

“What I would give for vodka right now,” Ivan shook his head. “They will not let me have any. Perhaps if I was as injured as America, then they would let me have some.”

“Don’t say that!” Tino scoffed. “Come home, and then we can drink to our heart’s content.”

“That sounds nice,” Ivan replied. “I feel sleepy. And everything is so heavy.”

“That’s called gravity,” Tino replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Shhhhhhhh,” Ivan drawled. “[ _Do svidanija_](https://translate.google.com/#ru/en/%D0%94%D0%BE%20%D1%81%D0%B2%D0%B8%D0%B4%D0%B0%D0%BD%D0%B8%D1%8F).”

“I love you,” Tino said quickly, before the line disconnected. “I will see you soon.”

* * *

Two days later, Tino found Ivan waiting on his doorstep.

“I brought vodka,” Ivan announced with a smile, raising the bottle.

Tino threw his arms around the Russian, who stepped back in surprise. Tino buried his face in the larger man’s chest and hummed contently. Ivan downcast his eyes, but he smiled softly into his scarf and gently ran Tino’s hair between his fingers.

“I made muffins,” Tino mumbled into Ivan’s shirt.

Tino drew back to look up at Ivan and grinned brightly. Ivan watched him for a minute before ducking his head to peck an innocent kiss on the Finn’s nose.  As Tino glared and smirked at the Russian, Ivan pushed past the smaller man and into the house, which was warm from baking and smelled sweetly of baked goods.

Tino closed the door and leant against it, watching Ivan take in the small cottage dwelling. Ivan saw a vase of sunflowers perched on a counter and reverently ran his fingers over the petals with a sigh. He turned to the bar lining one wall, taking off his hat and letting go of it in mid-air.

Tino stared quizzically at Ivan, but he was bemused. Gravity could be a funny thing if you weren’t used to it. However, he frowned as Ivan reached for the glasses above the bar.

“Ivan,” Tino started, but not before Ivan released the vodka bottle in mid-air. Tino held his breath, but the bottle just made a loud thunk on the wood floors.

Ivan turned with the glasses and looked for the vodka bottle next to him. Furrowing his brow in confusion, he looked to the ceiling before dawning realization crossed his face.

Tino laughed from where he was by the doorway and approached Ivan. He took the glasses from Ivan’s hands as the Russian looked at the bottle lying on its side on the floor with disappointment.

“It’s a good thing the bottle is plastic,” Tino said, placing the glasses on the bar and leaning down to pick up the vodka. But he never made it back up. Ivan had other ideas.

Wrapping his large arms around Tino’s middle, he lifted him and held him upside down. Tino shrieked and wriggled in Ivan’s grasp, scrabbling at the arms that held him tight.

“Ivan!” Tino shouted. “What are you doing?”

Ivan laughed, swinging Tino around in his arms until he was carrying him bridal style. Tino grabbed desperately at Ivan’s arms to steady himself, the vodka bottle held in a tight grip in his other hand. By the time Tino was able to look up and meet Ivan’s sly gaze, the Russian dropped him on the couch near the fireplace.

Diving over the back of the couch, Ivan launched an assault on Tino’s sides, tickling him mercilessly.

“EEK!” Tino shouted, beating on Ivan’s shoulders with his hands and trying to wriggle out of his grasp. “IVAN STOP! STOP!”

Ivan did and held himself up over Tino while the Finn caught his breath.

“Gosh, Ivan, I swear,” Tino said gleefully. “Sometimes you’re just an oversized child.”

“What child does not want to be a [cosmonaut](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Astronaut)?” Ivan asked with a shrug.

Tino reached up and stroked Ivan’s cheek, the mirth in his face replaced with reverence.

“One who has a good reason to stay,” Tino whispered. “Someone waiting.”

Reaching up over his head, Tino cracked open the vodka and took a sloppy swig straight from the bottle.

Ivan smiled softly with a sigh, dropping his gaze. He pushed the vodka bottle to the side to lean in and kiss his sweetheart silly.


End file.
